Delivery to Your Door

Harry lay stiffly on the bed, panting heavily as if he had been running. He woke with a start from a very vivid dream, pressing his hands tightly to his face.

Beneath his fingers, the lightning-shaped scar burned with pain, as if someone had just pressed a hot metal wire against his skin...

Bright white light shone through the window into the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry hadn't slept well the night before, and the intense light stung his eyes slightly.

Harry pressed his hands against his face and rubbed them roughly, as if he were trying to rub his hands into his head. The pressure from the forceful rubbing made it easier for him to breathe, and the slight pain made him feel a little clearer-headed.

"Let me look..." Loren sat opposite Harry, holding a large book in one hand and turning the pages with the other, the parchment pages rustling as they turned.

Hermione and Loren sat in a row, while Ron sat next to Harry, both of them watching Harry with worried eyes.

"This is it!" Loren laid the book flat on the table. "Based on your description, the emblem you see should be the school emblem of Ilvermorny."

Harry put down his hand that was rubbing his face, sighed, and peered at the illustrations in the book. "A bird as big as an eagle, a water snake with long horns, Wampus, Gnome... Yes, that's it."

Harry pointed to the badge composed of four animals, his mind filled with doubt. "But, but I've never seen this before. I've only ever heard the name Ilvermorny before, so why would I dream about Ilvermorny?"

"That's not all, Harry." Hermione read the following description with her head down, "Look here— Ilvermorny sits atop Mount Greylock, protected by a variety of powerful protective magic, and only occasionally reveals itself when Obscuring Mist. On either side of its main entrance stand marble statues of its Founders, Aesop Thale and James Stewart. The four animals symbolize their four houses."

"Your dreams are completely realistic; they are not just fantasy dreams."

"But these are things I never knew before." Harry's voice sounded flustered.

Loren looked at him seriously. "Harry, don't you understand? That wasn't a dream."

It's not a dream, it's real...

Harry covered his face with his hands again, rubbing them vigorously, trying to dispel the unease and pressure in his heart. He tried his best to recall the scene from his dream last night.

Everything was so realistic... Wormtail emerged from Azkaban and took control of Crabbe... A potion made with Unicorn Blood and Basilisk venom gave Voldemort the body of an infant.

Thinking of that person, Harry felt as if a block of ice had slid down his stomach, and the throbbing pain from the scar on his forehead interrupted Harry reverie. He raised his head and said firmly, "I have to tell Dumbledore this!"

"No, not now!" Ron grabbed him and lowered his voice.

"How are you going to describe your dream to Dumbledore, Harry?" Ron said worriedly. "You're witnessing everything from Voldemort's perspective, which will put you in a difficult position. How long has it been since you Parselmouth? Don't forget, Colin and Justin are still in the Hospital Wing."

"Are we supposed to keep this a secret?" Hermione countered.

Although Ron was indeed trying to help Harry and didn't want Harry to fall into a situation where he was being misunderstood again... sometimes teammates just drag you down like that, and that's how misunderstandings arise.

Loren smiled slightly, pursing his lips. "I think Dumbledore will keep this a secret for us. He's someone we can trust, isn't he?"

He paused for a moment, then asked seriously, "Speaking of which, Harry, have you Occlumency, which you learned during your holidays?"

Harry scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly. "This..."

Half an hour later, in the Headmaster's office.

Various silverwares spun around, emitting wisps of white smoke. Portraits of past principals hung on the wall, cautiously eavesdropping on the conversation of the people below.

Wearing crescent-shaped glasses and dressed in a grey and white robe, Dumbledore sat on the inside of the desk, while four young wizards sat outside.

Harry tried his best to recall everything from his dream, attempting to relay everything he had seen and heard to Dumbledore. Hermione and Dumbledore listened intently, as did Loren and Ron on the spinning top of their butter cookies.

After listening to Harry's story, Dumbledore asked the same question as Loren: "Harry, how's your Occlumency training going?"

"Professor, why are you and Loren so concerned about Occlumency?"

Hermione practiced Occlumency with Loren during her vacation and became very curious about this issue.

Harry chimed in, "I'd like to know too. Sirius Black said it's a very obscure spell, specifically designed to prevent the mind from being invaded by outsiders."

"Um--"

Dumbledore, carefully choosing his words, "I think you all know that Voldemort is difficult to kill. And many years ago, on that night, Harry defeated him, which created a mysterious connection between Harry and Voldemort."

The old bee took a roundabout approach; he didn't lie, but selectively revealed only part of the truth.

Loren stopped stuffing cookies into his mouth. It seemed Dumbledore was still holding back; he didn't dare tell Harry the whole truth.

Wow! Even better than that Rita thing.

"I've noticed some signs; it reacts every time I come into contact with anything related to Voldemort." Harry touched the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. "But what does this have to do with Occlumency?"

Dumbledore looked at him gently. "Harry, you can enter Voldemort's perspective through this connection. Similarly, if he senses the passage between you, he can enter your mind through it."

"This...this..." Harry felt as if he had fallen into an icy hole in the Black Lake in an instant, his whole body was cold and his heart was filled with chill.

Loren patted him on the shoulder, offering timely words of comfort, "That's why I'm having you practice Occlumency."

These words, like the tentacles of Giant Squid, pulled Harry out of the deep water, allowing him to feel like he could breathe fresh air again.

Harry, after a moment of reflection, smiled bitterly, "I tried it during the holidays, and it's harder than I thought. Sirius Black couldn't teach me."

"Harry, Severus is an expert in Occlumency. If you need help, you can ask him for assistance. Severus won't refuse you."

After they stumbled out of the Headmaster's office and returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron finally came to his senses and exclaimed incredulously:

"We've talked about Occlumency for so long, but haven't said anything else?"

"Where's Crabbe? Where's Wormtail? Where's Voldemort's new body?"

Hermione said thoughtfully and in an inscrutable tone, "It seems that Headmaster Dumbledore already knew a lot of things before we went to see him."

Loren looked at the little Witch suspiciously. He wondered if it was just his imagination, but he felt that Hermione's gaze kept drifting towards him.

Did I get cookie crumbs on my face?

Hogsmeade more lively on weekends than usual, with Honeydukes always packed with customers, Zonko's's Magical Joke Shop filled with screams and laughter, and Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop brimming with pink bubbles...

Aside from bookstores, nobody wants to waste time there; after all, they're already tired of the school Library. Since there aren't many customers, the bookstore owner always stays in the back room, and the staff are probably slacking off somewhere.

The bookstore is in a bad location; usually, hardly anyone passes through this alley. But today, a strange customer ventured into this secluded alley.

Her hair was styled into elaborate, stiff, and oddly shaped curls, which looked particularly awkward against her large chin. She wore jeweled glasses, and her thick, fleshy fingers clutched a crocodile-skin handbag, her nails about two inches long and painted bright red.

Rita Skeeter found a secluded corner and pulled a letter from her crocodile-skin handbag.

The letter was very concise:

Ms. Skeeter. Rita Skeeter:

I regret to inform you that, in order to maintain the daily teaching order of the school, I, on behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, refuse your visit request. I wish you a pleasant stay.

Deputy Headmaster: Minerva McGonagall

Rita's long, bright red fingernails scraped across the letter with a harsh sound, tearing it to shreds. Having vented her anger, she smiled triumphantly and muttered to herself:

"Professor McGonagall forgot to refuse a visit from a little Beetle, even though I hadn't asked permission beforehand..."

A few seconds later, an inconspicuous little Beetle flew out of the secluded alley. It flapped its wings and flew towards the Castle next to the village at the speed of an ordinary Beetle...

On the Second Floor of the Castle, there is a small study located on the Second Floor corridor. Inside, there is a roaring fireplace, and the Quidditch Pitch can be seen from the window. A hidden door leads to a bedroom with a gravel floor.

"Professor McGonagall, what do you need me for?" Sirius Black pushed open the door from outside the corridor, turning sideways so that Professor McGonagall wouldn't see the bruise on his left eye.

"Sirius Black, we're colleagues now, you can call me by my first name—" Professor McGonagall was engrossed in reviewing documents, looked up and, as if catching a disobedient student, immediately noticed what Sirius Black was trying to hide.

Professor McGonagall asked helplessly, "You've clashed with Severus again?"

"He thinks I'm not qualified to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and I don't like him either, so let's have a contest." Sirius Black pouted, no longer trying to hide it, and sat down directly opposite Professor McGonagall. "I didn't lose out either; I gave him a good beating a few times."

Professor McGonagall was skeptical, since Severus had never had any scars on his face.

"Are you going to keep fighting like this? Don't forget you're professors!" Professor McGonagall said, exasperated. "You should set a good example for your students!"

Sirius Black nodded in agreement. "Don't worry, I've already arranged a public duel with him, it'll be during the next Dueling Club."

Professor McGonagall felt even more troubled, and she chose not to dwell on the topic any further:

"Sirius Black, I'm here to talk to you about the Animagus class. I'd like to discuss with you how the three of you managed to complete the Animagus rituals on your own, without any guidance, and all of you succeeded?"

Although Professor McGonagall herself is Animagus, she has always been skilled in Transfiguration, and the Animagus's training process is more like a matter of talent coming into play.

Professor McGonagall was unsure whether her experience had universal value.

Sirius Black's eyes lit up as he recounted his glorious past, his expression smug and somewhat childlike. He took out a vial of medicine he always carried, took a sip, and enthusiastically recalled the events of that year.

"I think you know, Professor McGonagall, about our friend Remus Lupin, who has a little quirk: he has to go to the Shrieking Shack for a while every month. We found out about his little secret in our second year, and although he doesn't say it, we all know he cares about it."

At this point, Sirius Black laughed and cursed, "He still wanted to put on an act in front of us, but his acting was terrible."

Professor McGonagall nodded; Lupin's situation was no secret to her. After all, it was Dumbledore's doing to have Lupin spend the Full Moon Night in the Shrieking Shack.

"To support Remus, we began secretly learning the magic that allows us to transform into animals at will, namely the Animagus. We wanted to stay safely with Remus during his Transfiguration and keep him under control."

"That was my initial thought, but things changed a bit later." Sirius Black's eyes flashed with a malicious glint as he chuckled smugly. "The Werewolf in his transformed state has no sense of reason. To prevent Remus from hurting others, and also to prevent him from hurting himself, for a while at the beginning, James and I would beat him up every full moon, with Wormtail Peter watching from the sidelines."

"Sorry, I've gone off on a tangent." Sirius Black came back to his senses and sighed apologetically.

"Our learning process wasn't smooth. It took us three whole years to figure out those convoluted principles of Human Transfiguration. Controlling two heartbeats, managing animal emotions, bodily adaptation, self-awareness... a whole bunch of random stuff." Sirius Black shrugged.

"These are all things you have to master during the learning process, nothing special." Professor McGonagall carefully analyzed every word in his statement. "I want to know, why were you all able to succeed, and how did you do it?"

"You and James are among the most gifted students, and I can reluctantly attribute your success to talent. But what about Wormtail Peter?" Professor McGonagall pressed. "His talent isn't outstanding, and his grades are average. How did you teach him?"

As a high-level Transfiguration, Animagus is incredibly difficult. There were only seven registered Animagus in the entire 20th century. Professor McGonagall found it hard to imagine how they could learn it on their own and all of them succeed.

"I don't know, Professor," Sirius Black said blankly. "Although he was the slowest one, he still succeeded."

For the next hour, Professor McGonagall meticulously inquired about their process of learning Animagus. From holding Mandrake in their mouths, to brewing the potion under the Full Moon, to retrieving the potion on a stormy night...

Finally, Professor McGonagall astutely seized upon a detail. "You mean, you witnessed the Werewolf's transformation process multiple times?"